Ianto's Color
by DinoDina
Summary: Ianto's not sure if red is really his color. Jack says so all the time. He devises a plan to check, just in case. And it starts with a red tie. Janto. Fluff. Oneshot.


**Written for avaantares's COE10 on Tumblr for the prompts: Ianto Jones / red / love/sacrifice/loyalty / evening**

Was red really his color? Ianto wasn't sure. Jack said so all the time, yes, but after seeing the striped monstrosity Jack had called a shirt, Ianto doubted his sense of fashion. Red was everyone's color when they were feeling bond; Ianto was always feeling bold when he was with Jack.

Maybe he'd start small. A red tie. There was nothing odd about a red tie.

.oOo.

Ianto could pinpoint the exact moment Jack saw him. They'd spent the night apart, which Ianto had almost planned in order to get the most accurate reaction; morning sex due to the tie could easily just be normal morning sex.

He flashed Jack a teasing smile and stopped at Tosh's desk to greet her. It was a perfect spot, not just because Tosh was a perfect human, but because it put his arse directly into Jack's line of sight.

Jack kept his distance until Ianto, at both Tosh and Owen's request, went to make coffee. The alcove was secluded enough for Jack to be waiting there. Torchwood was trained well enough to not interrupt his greeting.

Passing out the coffee, Ianto was mostly sure that the experiment had gone well. Tosh flashed him a knowing smile and Owen snidely asked why he was wearing such a fancy tie.

Ianto returned a quip but Owen was partially right. There was no way the tie was going to survive the day.

He threw Jack a goodbye look and headed down to the archives.

.oOo.

There was nothing a good dry-clean couldn't fix.

Between Jack and the slime-based lifeform they'd picked up from the Rift, the once-new tie was almost a lost cause. The tie would have to wait a bit for Ianto to have the time to send it in for cleaning, but the damage wasn't permanent. It was expensive and worth mourning, but the experiment had succeeded.

He'd worn red ties to work before. Long ago, before whatever he and Jack had had become a relationship. An almost proper relationship, where they went on dates and spent the night together.

Not tonight, though.

It was long after midnight. Jack had dropped Ianto off at his flat before returning to the Hub for the night shift he insisted no one else take on weekend nights. Ianto was too tired to stay with him—which Jack understood.

Every couple needed nights apart. Especially given that Ianto was not going to stop with just the tie.

A red waistcoat was too much. Ianto wasn't a waiter or magician. He could dig out another red tie and add a red pocket square to the look. He didn't add pocket squares often. They took up space that could be used for surreptitious weapons or the random shit Torchwood gifted him with.

Jack was worth the sacrifice of space and practicality.

Ianto undressed and folded his clothes to wait with the tie for the dry-cleaner. Then, he began to search. The pocket squares were safe in the back of the closet; when Ianto took out the deep red one, he could almost feel its protest at being taken to Torchwood.

He smiled and put it next to the suit he planned on wearing.

.oOo.

The plan didn't quite work out. Ianto looked down at the pocket square, now dirty and covered in blood, and shook his head in apology and regret. He would have to get rid of it.

When Jack had barged into his flat not fifteen minutes after dropping him off, Ianto had stuffed the pocket square in his pocket to hide it and keep the surprise for the next day. In hindsight, having a pocket square or handkerchief on hand wasn't a bad thing. The weevil chase Jack had fetched him for had turned nasty. An hour later, both Jack and the weevil were dead and Ianto was using the pocket square to protect an annoyingly deep cut on his hand from falling to the alleyway ground.

"Ianto!" Jack was approaching from the direction of the showers.

"Hey."

"Let me take you home?"

Ianto looked at his watch. It was nearing dawn and unless he was picking up pastries for breakfast or planning his outfit to drive Jack mad, Ianto was the first one in. He would only have time for a quick shower and change of clothes before returning. Both were very valuable but he'd just obtained them at the Hub: he was freshly showered and changed into the casual clothes he kept in Jack's bunker just in case.

He shook his head. "I'll just grab a quick nap on the sofa. I got the weevil down for Owen to look at when he gets in. And your coat's all ready for the dry-cleaner. I'll take it there first thing in the morning."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Just wake me up before the others get in?"

"Of course." Jack leaned in for a quick kiss that lasted longer than intended. "Go lie down, I'll bring you a blanket."

.oOo.

Ianto thought he looked a bit conspicuous, but as long as he didn't show his fear, no one could call him out on it. Owen probably would—he'd caught on to the red tie at the very beginning, there was no way he was going to miss the new red shirt Ianto was wearing.

Besides, it was worth it. Although his attempt to tempt Jack with a pocket square had failed due to circumstances far out of his control, the tie had worked. Ianto knew he was on the right track. Jack had spent months distracting him at work; it was not only fun to tease him, it was fair.

It had been several days since he'd last worn red, and the surprise of today's wardrobe was part of the plan.

He stopped to pick up the morning's pastries and threw the girl selling them a smile. She swooned slightly, as she was supposed to do, and Ianto left confident that Jack would at least salivate when they saw each other.

Jack wasn't the only one who was salivating when Ianto entered the Hub—although it could be safely said that Owen was only interested in the pastries.

He threw Ianto's shirt a disgusted look. "If he tries to bend you over the table, I'm out."

Since he and Jack spent most of their time at the Hub, no matter how much they tried to avoid it, Owen's request was impossible. Not that Jack would do such a thing. They had boundaries, established after a particularly nerveracking conversation, and public sex was out of the question. So was seeing other people and other customary relationship red flags. Orgies—as long as they were both involved—were still on the table. Just not the one in the conference room.

.oOo.

Jack's look over breakfast had spoken volumes, but the Rift had other ideas. The morning had passed in a flurry of alien activity. Nothing life-threatening, but enough to ruin Ianto's plans for a few hours. Thus, it was only around lunchtime that Jack managed to corner him in the tourist office.

The CCTV of the tourist office was on a separate screen than the surveillance of the rest of the Hub. Jack was the only one who tapped into it and Ianto suspected it was because he spent so much time there during the day.

It was easy to pretend that he couldn't hear Jack come up behind him. Jack liked to be sneaky, but there was something about his love of the dramatic that couldn't be hidden.

"I know you know I'm here."

"Sorry." Ianto laughed at the petulant note in Jack's tone. "I just wanted to give you the satisfaction."

"Thanks."

"Anytime."

Jack leaned on the back of Ianto's chair and flashed him a smile. "So... does the promise of 'anytime' extend to tonight?"

"What's tonight?"

"Nothing yet. I was thinking: dinner?"

"Yeah."

Ianto met Jack halfway for a kiss.

.oOo.

Ianto met Jack at the invisible lift. They rode it up into the warm Cardiff evening. Ianto wasn't sure where Jack was taking him but it was close enough to walk. He was sure that they'd return to the Hub for a car before heading back to Ianto's flat. Their dates usually ended that way; sometimes, they drove to the restaurant or cinema, but the summer offered a nice walk and the opportunity to hold hands.

Ianto wasn't big on public displays of affection. He wasn't big on public displays of anything, really, but it was different with Jack. There was the sex, of course, but he was happy when they were together. Not on guard, not distracted - he was happy to be in the moment, to be sitting with Jack, talking with Jack; he was comfortable teasing Jack and relaxing with him.

Ianto couldn't promise that the red shirt would survive the evening, but it had served him well. Even if red wasn't truly his color, Jack thought so.

**Come say hi on tumblr, thanks for reading, and long live Ianto Jones!**


End file.
